


Swedish Fish

by amante_del_latte



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Tyrving - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amante_del_latte/pseuds/amante_del_latte
Summary: Tyrell's greasy and desperate and Irving almost doesn't mind so much. Almost. Irving's POV





	Swedish Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Tyrell Wellick self-identifies as sapiosexual and he's only attracted to Irving or anyone else because Tyrell thinks they're smart

Tyrell felt good on him, so good that Irving couldn’t help but let his head roll back as he groaned. The Swede had been jittery since Irving first met him but lately he’d been especially anxious. Irving figured the isolation was finally getting to him, driving him a little wild. Now he was sure of it; after Tyrell making passes at him all day long he’d finally made a move, dragged his hand up Irving’s thigh during dinner. He examined the hand first, then Tyrell over his glasses, and stayed in place when Tyrell leaned in to kiss him.

Now Tyrell was on his knees for him, fully dedicated to the task at hand. Irving liked the way he cupped his balls, he was going to have to remember that the next time someone sucked him off. Though, on second thought, he wondered if it would feel as good without Tyrell’s big hands. They were huge fuckers, strong too, at least half of what made this blowjob so damn good.

Irving looked back down at Tyrell, adjusting his glasses to see better. The Swede had his eyes closed, brow slightly furrowed as he bobbed his head up and down on Irving’s cock. Irving would have grabbed at Tyrell’s hair if it hadn’t been slick with grease and sweat; he almost cringed just to think of it. Instead, he stroked the side of Tyrell’s face, watching his eyelids flutter at the contact. He passed his thumb over Tyrell’s cheeked, hollowed from suction, and an amusing thought crossed his mind. Hollowed cheeks, puckered lips, Irving almost couldn’t hold in a chuckle. “My little Swedish Fish,” he muttered, and Tyrell looked up at him, one eye cracked open and an eyebrow arched. But Irving couldn’t repeat himself, his vision blurred at the edges and his mouth slackened open as he came, spilling in Tyrell’s mouth. Tyrell stroked him through his orgasm, holding his mouth open for Irving to fill. A few errant sprays glazed Tyrell’s lips instead, excess dribbling down his chin. When Irving finally came back to his senses he sighed, straightening his tie and looking up at the ceiling to avoid Tyrell’s expectant gaze.

“Okay. Well, this was, uh, fun.” When Irving looked back at Tyrell the blonde was smiling. He patted him once on the shoulder before moving to get up. He buttoned his pants, smoothing down his suit as he stepped from the table. When he looked back Tyrell was still staring at him. “You got a, uh, little something,” Irving said, pointing at his own chin. Tyrell wiped at his mouth, fingers catching drips of cum. 

“Okay. Until next time, eh?” Tyrell nodded once before he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. Irving turned on his heel and repressed a shiver, though he couldn’t distinguish if it was from disgust or arousal. Once he was in the car, he settled back in his seat and allowed his mind to drift back to the thought of Tyrell sucking his cock, cheeked hollowed. He chuckled again and shook his head, repeating a similar mutter: “Swedish fish.”


End file.
